


A Week In The Life of Haru Okumura

by Alexilulu



Series: Stealing Each Other's Hearts [6]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Dom/sub Play, F/F, Multi, Strap-Ons, Trans!Haru, Underage Drinking, everyone gets a slice of haru's personal pansexual poly pizza, postgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2018-12-23 15:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11992815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexilulu/pseuds/Alexilulu
Summary: Life will change, but it still goes on after that. What's important is what you do after that change. And Haru has a lot of stuff (or people) to do.





	1. Monday: Makoto Niijima

**Author's Note:**

> yes Haru is trans, yes she has had gender-affirming surgery, no I don't care if you think that's unrealistic given her father's attitude towards her during her palace. I'll probably get more into that particular bit of backstory later on, since there's gonna be 7 chapters of seeing how Haru deals with hanging around all the Phantom Thieves and her life after getting into college and dealing with the Okumura Foods stuff.

“The first thing to remember, as budding sociologists or even hobbyists looking for an understanding of the field, that finding objectivity when you critique a social more is incredibly difficult. We’re raised in society, so our inherent bias as part of that makes it very difficult to move from subjective views to objective ones.” Haru Okumura sighs, her chin in her hand and a notebook open in front of her, almost totally blank. Down below her in the lecture hall, the sociology professor continues with a brief overview of the ways in which society reinforces its own social mores and the difficulty of creating objective critiques because of it. Unfortunately, she has much less savory things on her mind...She glances over at the student to her right, who is intently taking notes, her phone next to her taking a recording of the lecture for later review. Makoto Niijima returns her glance when the lecturer pauses to take a drink of water, smiling and nodding to her before returning to her note-taking.

Haru admired Makoto greatly; while she’d never been a top-grade student (she remained above average at the very least), Makoto set an example for her to follow throughout their time in school together, and that feeling only grew stronger after they both ended up in the Thieves together. Strong, smart, absolutely gorgeous...She sighs. She should be concentrating on the class, but she’s fantasizing about how wonderful her friend is. They’re barely a foot away from each other, Haru having moved her chair over so she can actually see past the much taller boy in the next row down. She looks over at Makoto again, her classmate’s expression serious as she reads over a diagram the lecturer is projecting onto the wall above him. So intense...Haru can’t help but think she wants that intense look directed at her.

The lecture continues, but Haru can’t bring herself to concentrate. She needs to do _something_. She slips one foot out of her shoes, tries to compose herself and returns to her previously bored expression watching the lecture, and slowly reaches her stockinged foot over to Makoto’s leg. She slides it slowly up Makoto’s calf, brushing her pants leg upward. Out of the corner of the eye, Haru sees Makoto shiver and look away, then over at her, confusion and a slight blush rising to her face. Haru had already withdrawn her leg, feigning ignorance, but Makoto’s gaze lingers for too long and her mouth twitches of it’s own accord into a smirk. Makoto flips the page on her notebook and writes something, sliding it over towards Haru.

[What are you doing? You should be paying attention, Haru…]

Haru tilts her head towards Makoto, giving her an innocent look and grabbing her pen to write a response. [I’ve already done the reading, and bored besides. Are you free tonight? I want to blow off some steam.] She slides it back, and Makoto looks down at it and back at Haru. Haru responds by reaching her leg over and stroking Makoto’s now goosebump-covered calf again, leaving the bottom of her foot resting on Makoto’s leg. Once she's done, she smiles over at Makoto, blocking her expression from the rest of her class with her hand on her other cheek. Makoto scribbles out a quick response, frowning.

[Let me pay attention then, we can talk about that later.] Haru shakes her head and runs her foot up and down on Makoto’s leg, deepening that blush and drawing another shiver from her. Makoto pulls out her phone and checks something, then picks her pen back up. [I’m free. What were you thinking?]

* * *

The trouble with wanting to learn something, Haru has found out recently, is that abstract study only gets you so far in most non-theoretical fields.

Which is why, for the twentieth time that afternoon, Haru is flat on her back on a bright blue mat set up in one of the many, many empty rooms in her mansion, with Makoto standing over her, totally unfazed from heaving Haru around like a sack of potatoes. The look in her eyes, though...Haru feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she stares back into the utterly pitiless gaze Makoto is giving her. That's the look she wanted trained on her. To see that look more and more until she can't take it anymore. Makoto’s expression softens once she realizes Haru is just staring up at her. “Are you okay? I’m trying to hold back, but you’re lighter than I expected.” Haru sniffs, pushing herself to her feet and dusting herself off.

“I’m fine. I told you not to hold back, so I really would like it if you didn’t. I’m not going to learn anything if I don’t get a few bruises along the way!” She assumes her stance again, already ready for more.

“You know, usually you learn more about _ukemi_ and some of the basic principles before you jump right into unstructured sparring…” Her voice sounds worried, but she takes up a prepared stance in response to Haru and her expression turns to steel. The two stare down, Haru doing her best to control her breathing. She’s getting mad at Makoto, getting mad at being treated like something that could break without meaning to, a flower that wilts if someone dares touch it. The board treats her the same way, even now, a year later, they question if she’s emotionally stable enough to handle normal business, if she’s got the skills and the talent to steer the company where it needs to go. She even finds herself questioning if she’s strong enough to do the things she needs to do, even now.

So many things make her angry these days. Yeah, you can kill the personification of humanity’s deep-seated need for control and order, but the feelings that gave it such terrifying power are not just gone forever. People will still be people, awful and hurtful and cruel, even when they don’t mean to be.

Haru is the first to move, stepping in and throwing a left-handed punch towards Makoto’s chest, which she ably deflects up and away with her right hand. Makoto’s counter-strike lands a glancing blow to Haru’s arm, having ignored defense entirely in favor of getting a solid grip on Makoto’s gi with her own right. With that hold secured, she grabs onto Makoto’s sleeve with her left hand and steps closer, sweeping a leg behind and under Makoto’s and heaving her down onto the mat. Not missing a beat, she hops into Makoto’s midsection and sits down on her stomach.

“Wh-Haru?!” Haru doesn’t respond, instead grabbing Makoto’s head in both hands and leaning down towards her face. The next thing Haru knows, she’s staring up at the ceiling for the 21st time that day. She can taste blood and her ears are ringing, but she feels good, all of a sudden. Makoto comes into view, and she can’t hear her very well, but her lips are moving and she looks concerned. Whatever for, Haru wonders to herself. She sits up and wipes at her lips, looking at her fingertips smeared with blood. Somewhere around then is when her hearing comes back. “-h my god, Haru, are you okay? Try not to move around too much, you might have a concussion! I’m so sorry, I just reacted, I don’t know what came over me…” Haru stands, wiping blood from her lip onto the back of her hand and smiling and laughing to Makoto.

“Hah, I finally got you!”

* * *

The pair have adjourned to a couch somewhere in the house, Makoto sitting upright with Haru's head in her lap, the shorter girl sprawled out across the rest of the seating. Makoto's expression is hard to read as usual, but Haru is making an effort nonetheless; she's reasonably sure that Makoto is obsessing over her newly split lower lip, given how intently she’s looking down at her.

“I really am sorry, Haru. You just surprised me with that mount, I wasn't expecting you to use non-aikido techniques and-” Haru sighs loudly to interrupt Makoto’s pity party.

“I already said it's fine, Mako-chan, please let it go. We both know I've had worse before. Let's talk about something else, okay? How is everyone taking the new arrangement?” Makoto starts running her hands through Haru's curly hair slowly, and she rubs her head back into Makoto’s thigh appreciatively.

“Mmh. Ann and Akira seem to be enjoying it, and Ryuji is fine, but I don't know. We mostly just keep it to the group chat we made...With my schedule, I mostly just see Ryuji or Ann alone, Akira's too busy with student council work or whatever Sojiro’s got him working on in the cafe. We haven’t really done much with it, honestly, beyond make out every so often.”

“Hmm. Do you want to see more of him, then? I know you and Ann make quite the couple, and Ryuji can be dense sometimes but you two seem to get each other.”

“I don't know...Don't get me wrong, Akira's an important person to me, but I don't see myself romantically with him, I guess.”

“But you do with Ryuji and Ann.” Makoto’s hand freezes in Haru’s hair, twisting a lock around her index finger over and over.

“...Sort of.” Makoto takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. “...I don't know. Maybe? It's...I don't know.” She falls silent, slumping on the couch, her hand resting on Haru’s scalp. Haru doesn't speak, just watches her with a look of concern as her friend composes herself. “I don't...God, I don't know, I don't get these things. I’ve tried to read about this stuff, but I don’t know where to even start. I don’t identify with a lot of typically ‘girly’ things, but I don’t feel dysphoria, either, so maybe I’m just...strange. I don’t feel like I’m attracted towards men most days, but I do care for Ryuji and Akira on some level, platonic or...not. I definitely love Ann, a lot even, but something about this all still feels so strange, unwholesome somehow. I got us into this, after Akira and Ann started messing with us, but I probably have more doubts about it than Ryuji does, and he was the one protesting most of the time.” Haru sighs.

“Mako-chan, you doubt yourself far too much for someone who we named Queen.” Makoto chuckles, flicking Haru’s head with the hand buried in her hair. “Ow! You’re so worried about what they think about this, when you clearly don’t have a grasp on how you feel about it...Hmm. What about the arrangement makes you think it’s unwholesome? As far as society’s standards of morality, polygamy is pretty far up there, but we were also the Phantom Thieves, none of us got where we are today by playing by society’s rules.”

“I know, but...I’m the one who’s aiming to be a police commissioner of all things, I can’t be the polygamist police officer, that’s not how it works! I can’t change things if I get shut out by society at large for not conforming...even if I don’t want to. Even if there’s so many things I want to do, to say.”

“Then don’t conform. Mako-chan, you took hold of your own destiny, but you’re still convinced that others control you. You’re deferring to what others will do or say, and that’s not the Queen that led us to victory, again and again. Even if something happened, you’re Makoto Niijima, you would make an opportunity for victory and seize it!” Haru punches upward for emphasis, and Makoto can’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. “So, still worried about being unwholesome?”

“Mm, only a little. And that’s only because I think the boys would be a little...unnerved by my tastes.”

“Oh, really?” Haru pulls Makoto’s hand out of her hair and places it against her cheek. “And what tastes might those be?”

* * *

Once the door to Haru’s room is closed and locked, she turns around to face Makoto, doing her best not to look down at the new attachment she’s sporting. “When you’re here, there are a few rules.” Haru holds up one finger, pointing to it with her other hand. “One, don’t be gentle. I can take whatever you give me, and more besides.” A second finger comes up, and she points to it. “Two, Rule 1 doesn’t apply to making visible marks. I have to meet with the board this week, and they’re already troublesome enough without asking questions about my personal life. Three, if either of us says ‘Time Out’, we stop, no exceptions. Okay?”

“Okay.” Makoto’s stripped to her sports bra and a double-ended strap-on she’s already gotten set up with while Haru was ensuring the servants had left for the night; better to be safe than have the maid call the police because Haru is screaming like someone’s murdering her. “Ready?” Haru moves closer to the center of the room to meet Makoto, smiling up at the taller girl.

“Ready.” Makoto grabs Haru by the back of her thighs, heaving her up into her chest and carrying the both of them straight at the wall next to the bed. Haru’s back crashes into the wall with enough force to knock a framed photo to the ground next to them as Makoto shoves her tongue into Haru’s mouth, her fingernails digging into Makoto’s back as she tries to cling to her for dear life. When Makoto finally breaks her hold on Haru’s mouth long enough for her to breathe, she’s seeing spots and panting as the other girl latches into her collarbone hard enough for her to make a high noise of pain deep in her throat. The only thing she can think about is trying to hold on, and the pressure of the dildo against the bottom of her stomach, so achingly close to where she wants it.

Without warning, Makoto heaves Haru sideways onto her bed, landing with a bounce and a cry of surprise. Makoto fixes Haru with an intense stare once she recovers, and Haru freezes. “Stay there, I have an idea.” Makoto stalks off to the other side of the room, digging through a drawer Haru has carefully stocked with all the sorts of things a girl might need for a fun night in with someone. Taking that as a sign things were moving forward, Haru sheds her _uwagi_ as fast as she can, and is halfway through pulling her _shitabaki_ down her legs when Makoto returns, grabbing her hands and quickly slapping a pair of leather-bound handcuffs complete with a long chain affixed to the middle onto her wrists and pulling her hands upwards. “You let me take care of that.” Makoto climbs onto the bed, settling in on top of Haru and locking her legs together in place with her knees. All at once, Haru becomes incredibly conscious of every blemish and bruise on her torso, the results of her training today and many other activities besides. Still pulling Haru’s arms out to one side, Makoto leans down and presses on one particularly purple bruise with the heel of her hand, Haru’s breath catching in her throat at the sudden pain. Her eyes close involuntarily as Makoto moves from bruise to bruise, prodding some while leaning down to bite or kiss others, the interplay between the tenderness and pain leaving Haru shuddering and whining each time.

“Haru, look at me.” Makoto pulls the chain for emphasis, and Haru opens her eyes to find Makoto standing at the end of the bed, pulling Haru back towards her by yanking on the half-removed _shitabaki_ and dragging her the rest of the way by her hips. Sitting at the end of the bed next to her is a bottle of lube, and Makoto expertly manipulates the chain to put Haru’s hands next to it. “Take it.” Once Haru has a hold on it, she yanks the chain forward, pulling Haru into a sitting position just in front of her. “I think you know what to do.” Nodding, Haru squeezes a thin stream out onto the strap-on and gives it a few pumps with both hands to spread it around evenly. Nodding approvingly, Makoto places a hand on Haru’s shoulder and shoves her back down on the bed. “Don’t move. I want to get a good look first.”

Haru pulls her hands to her chest as Makoto pulls her thoroughly soaked panties roughly down, leaning down to bring her face inches from Haru’s mound. The feel of her breath on her skin gives her a shiver of pleasure, as does Makoto’s newfound dark side and the commanding voice she remembers so well from countless battles. “Cute...It won’t look so cute when I’m done with it.” Haru gasps with surprise when Makoto runs her tongue up her entrance, then climbs roughly on top of her and stares down at Haru, the dildo’s shaft resting against her. This is it, Haru thinks to herself. This is the look I wanted. She meets Makoto’s eyes and nods.

“No.” Makoto puts a hand on Haru’s neck, pressing her pelvis into Haru’s but not giving her the thing she wants most. “Beg for it.”

“P...Please. Makoto, please.” Haru shudders, and Makoto’s fingers tighten slightly, a light grip turning firmer by the second.

“My name is Queen. More.”

“Please, Queen, I...I want you.”

“To do what?”

“To f-fuck me. Please, fuck me. I...I can’t think straight, I want you to fuck me so badly, fuck me until it hurts.”

“Good.” She angles herself back, and her gaze doesn’t leave Haru’s as she slams herself inside Haru’s pussy, burying the strap-on into her as Haru cries out in a mixture of pain and release. Makoto’s hand leaves her neck and pulls the chain upwards again as she starts moving again, Haru moaning with each rough thrust that crashes into her. “Having fun? Is this what you wanted?”

“Y-yes...I wanted you, Mako-chan.” Makoto stops, pulling out entirely and leaving Haru gasping, squirming her hips under Makoto.

“Queen. Don’t call me anything else.”

“Queen! Please, Queen, don’t stop, please, please…” Her hands start moving down towards her clit, but Makoto yanks the chain high up and Haru yelps.

“None of that. That’s mine now, not yours. Roll over.” Confusion flashes across Haru’s face, but Makoto pulls her arms to one side and uses her free hand to roll her up onto her stomach. Taking her hips in both hands, Makoto pulls Haru’s ass upwards until she’s presenting herself to her, and climbs up onto her knees on the bed, returning her strap-on to it’s rightful place inside Haru with a powerful thrust. Haru instinctively wraps her hands around some bedsheets, her face pushed into the bedding and Makoto’s every thrust filling her up the way she’s dreamed of for months. It goes on and on, and she loses herself in the sensation of Makoto’s hands on her ass, her dildo inside of her, the sound every thrust makes, nothing else exists for her but this moment. No board rooms, no pent up anger, no thoughts about forgetting her hormones this morning or what to wear tomorrow, only this.

The trance is only broken when Makoto leans down onto her back, taking a fistful of hair in her hand and yanking Haru roughly back as part of another thrust, leaving her screaming out at the violent motion. Makoto holds her tightly like this, one hand on her hip and one buried in her scalp, Haru’s arms dangling in front of her still clutching the sheets as she’s held roughly in place and fucked until the only feeling she knows is the fire in the pit of her gut that threatens to burn out everything else inside her. Each thrust threatens to blot out the person she is, intoxicating her with the feeling of giving up her life and everything about her to Queen’s control. The world blanks out as Queen’s assault finally finishes her off, Haru’s body spasming as one final thrust drives her over the edge, and she calls out in wordless triumph.

Queen does not stop for anything, already at the edge as well, and Haru’s overstimulated body endures yet more assault until Queen herself collapses onto Haru’s back with a final moan of release, barely keeping herself upright with an arm on the bed. Makoto pulls the strap-on out with a slick sound, collapsing onto her side next to Haru, her exertions leaving her panting next to her partner of the evening, who seems barely conscious in the afterglow, her eyes half-lidded and the only point of tension in her body the death-grip her hands maintained on the bedding. Makoto brushes hair out of Haru’s face, all the commanding force of moments ago given way to the tender girl she lives the rest of her life as. Haru’s mouth twitches into a smile, and Makoto returns it.

“T….thank you, Queen. I needed that.” Makoto puts her hand on Haru’s, gently prying her fingers apart, pulling it towards her and kissing the back.

“The pleasure was mine, Noir.”

 


	2. Tuesday: Ann Takamaki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get the "full experience", i definitely recommend turning on the creator style, this chapter has some fun text bullshit i'm trying out for the hell of it!

Breakfast is immaculate—thanks to the chef that has remained on retainer with her after her father passed, Haru will never want for a well-made meal—but starts awkwardly, with Haru arriving to the table later than her guest. Makoto had insisted they not shower together when they finally crawled out of bed around 8 that morning, so Haru had taken the time to give her presentation the fifth draft treatment while waited for her turn, lounging on the bed. Finally satisfied with the slides and her ability to improvise on what wasn’t there, she emailed it to her personal assistant and headed into the bathroom once Makoto had slipped out without a word.

She couldn’t help but wonder what was making Makoto so skittish this morning; guilt, now that the haze of lust from that night had broken? She’s never been _that_ rough before, but it wasn’t an unwelcome change, far from it. _I’ll just talk to her about it_ , Haru decides. When she sits down (gingerly) at the breakfast table out on the patio, Makoto gives her a tight smile.

“Good morning.”

“Sleep well, Mako-chan?” Haru nods to her chef when he pours her a cup of green tea. “Thank you, Pierre.” He exits the room after that, the two girls smiling to each other, with Makoto’s faltering until she covers the slip with a sip of her own tea.

“Yes…uhh, very well.” Haru smiles, the thought of Makoto’s arms wrapped around her stomach when she woke up this morning warming her heart as well as her cheeks. “You’re, well, very warm. It reminds me of Ann.” Makoto can’t meet Haru’s gaze as she says it, which she finds unbearably cute. For someone as direct in so many other circumstances to also be this easily embarrassed is a joy in its own right. Haru hums in response, smiling mischievously.

“It was very sweet of you to cuddle, you know. I needed that.”

“I couldn’t just get up and leave for the night, what else could I do? Besides, I was tired, and we were in bed, and I was feeling really guilty about…” She takes another sip, trailing off and blushing at the mere thought of saying anything specific about last night.

“Fucking me silly?” Makoto’s reaction is immediate, a full-body convulsion that ends in her coughing and sputtering over the mouthful of tea she had been trying to drink.

“HARU!” Haru laughs, covering her face with both hands while Makoto wipes her face with a napkin.

“I’m sorry! It just came out!” Once they’ve both recovered some level of composure, Haru continues. “You have absolutely nothing to be guilty about, Makoto.”

“I know, but…you really have no problem with this? The…come over for the night, beat you up and…fuck you silly…and then eat breakfast in the morning, like nothing happened?” Haru giggles, putting down her fork.

“You didn’t _beat me up_ , Mako-chan! We sparred, and then you left a few marks in bed, that’s all. I had quite a lot of fun with both activities, I’ll add. Did you?” The question immediately gets a sputtered series of noises from Makoto that sounds like a very flustered ‘yes’, with the added benefit of bringing a blush to her cheeks again. “Then there’s no problem, so I won’t accept any more of your worrying. So, what are your plans for the day? Anything exciting?”

“Not really…I have a test in civic law this afternoon, and another to study for later this week, as well. I was hoping to go home and study, mostly.”

“Ah, a shame. After my meeting in the afternoon, I’ve nothing to do. Maybe it’s time to weed the garden before…” Haru leans around the table, squinting at her bed of vegetables tucked in the corner of the garden. Makoto turns to look, making a noncommittal noise.

“They look fine, to be honest. Maybe you should just rest, it’s best to give yourself some time to recover before you start doing more stressful activities like that after all of our exertion yesterday. And you’ve got a busy week, from what I understand.”

“Ah, true…” Haru finishes her omelette, stretching and groaning when all the little aches she’s picked up protest the movement. “Maybe you’re right. Something not too stressful…Ah well, I’ll figure it out after the meeting. Can I borrow you before you go, Mako-chan? I need opinions on my attire for it, I’m not sure how formally I should be dressed in a situation like this.”

“Oh, sure.” Makoto wolfs down the rest of her omelette in a rather undignified way that makes Haru’s heart flutter before standing and picking up her plate as well as Haru’s own. Haru stands, putting a hand on Makoto’s and pushing it back down to the table.

“Pierre will be very cross if you don’t let him do his job, Makoto.”

“Oh, right.” She drops it, but leaves her hand in contact with Haru’s. “I don’t think I’d ever get used to having someone else clean up for me. C’mon, let’s go.”

* * *

 

One of the few benefits to owning a majority stake in a company is that you can just ask for an office for the day and receive it. Haru’s set herself up in an unoccupied executive suite, adjusting her suit jacket and picking at the seams, adjusting her skirt, and pulling at the cuffs of her shirt. There’s nice seating, but she’s pacing in her low heels—just high enough to make her not look short, but still precarious in their own way—in the middle of the room, watching the presentation slideshow play out on the wall projector. Earnings numbers, profit margins and engagement scores appear and are replaced by some of the better-framed selfies using the snapchat filter that have shown up on social media and several highly-retweeted photos of the street team posing together at an opening event.

It feels strange to be seeing people who absolutely aren’t her friends wearing their Metaverse disguises, but it’s also rather thrilling, in it’s own way. They were a phenomenon, and cosplay of what little the public knew of them had been a minor fad last year, so this had to happen eventually. _Better to give them the right ideas than the wrong ones_ , Haru thinks to herself.

Her phone buzzes in her jacket pocket, startling her out of memorizing the margin on the Phantom Burger for the fifteenth time.

 

Ann  
  
Hey! Can I pick your brain about something to wear tonight? I’ve got a hot date and I’m buying new clothes.  


Haru stops pacing and sits down on the couch, tapping out a quick response. She’s still got several hours before the meeting, so she can spare some prep time to try to relax.

 

Ann  
  
Of course! Where are you going?  
  
Dunno yet, its up to them! I’m just gonna send you pics and you gotta gimme the thumbs up/thumbs down, ok?  


The picture pops up immediately, Haru yelping in surprise when it loads. Ann is stripped down to a bra and panties in a dressing room, one arm resting under her breasts to show off a matching pair of black lace bra and panties, embroidered with red roses curling up the sides. To match, Ann has on a pair of red stockings that end high on her thighs.

 

Ann  
  
Ann!!  
  
gotta set the foundation so you can have a really good outfit! Now is that a thumbs up or a thumbs down?  
  
(thumbs up emoji) (sweatdrop emoji)  
  
Perfect! Back in a minute, gotta put this dress on. Don’t get too busy, I still need you! (lipstick kiss emoji)  


Haru squirms in her seat, rolling her eyes but grinning all the same. Ann’s gotten so much more confident in herself now that she’s taking her modeling more seriously, and it’s definitely an improvement. She still can’t act at all if she’s trying to lie, but it’s not acting when she’s very, completely serious. And she’s always very, completely serious, Haru has found. Out of things to do but fret, Haru re-opens Ann’s selfie, taking in all the little details now that she’s not pressed for a response.

Seeing Ann’s hair all the way down is a welcome surprise, blonde curls twirling slowly down her shoulders, and her little knowing smirk brings a smile to her own face, until she looks further down and ends up biting her own lip. The arm under Ann’s chest is more accentuation and pose than lifting or positioning; The bra has that more than under control, lifting her chest high and pressing her breasts closer together, a swell threatening to spill out with any movement. The roses creeping up from the edges are exquisitely detailed, using a deeper, nearly black-red thread for the petals.

A small twinge of envy passes over Haru looking at Ann’s long, smooth legs, lingering on the slight  squish her stockings are giving her thighs at the end, tantalizingly close to where her legs meet her body. The deep red contrasts so well against the creamy texture of her skin.

Haru pulls at the collar of her shirt, sighing and rubbing her face where she won’t mess up her makeup. This is all too much for 10 in the morning for her. And…Well, Ann had sort of been off limits for her before. With Makoto, their arrangement had predated Ryuji’s involvement and the subsequent poly-open relationship setup with Akira and Ann, so it essentially got grandfathered in. This, though…Ann had always been very affectionate with her and Akira, and she did feel some level of guilt for being upset when Ann showed up to a meeting hand-in-hand with Akira with a hickey just barely visible under her jacket. But…Is this open, now, too?

 

Ann  
  
Okay! All done~  
  
But first!  
  
???  
  
Send me a selfie! I wanna see your suit, I bet you look so hot in a jacket and I gotta find out if I’m right, so I’m not showing you my dress until I get it!  
  
Ahh! Give me a minute, this is very sudden!  


She stands, searching frantically for good lighting in the office and settling for a standing lamp in the corner behind the couch with a flexible head. For lack of a full body mirror, she grabs a phone dock out of a drawer and sets it up on the desk and props it up straight with a stack of files, thumbing through apps until she finds a camera timer app and takes a few test shots.

Finally, when she’s positive the lighting is decent and the angle on the camera is good enough, she takes a dozen different shots. The first is incredibly nervous looking for obvious reasons, but after the first one, she starts trying different poses and expressions, until the last few get very flirty, with Haru pulling her skirt higher up her tights-clad leg and smirking at the camera. The blush makes it, Haru decides, and sends that one to Ann.

 

Ann  
  
Here you go! I’m not really set up for this sort of thing…  
  
Oh my god! (Eyes wide blushing emoji) Haru!!!  
  
?? What?  
  
You look like the hot boss who dominates some poor salaryworker? It’s a really good look on you! Makes me wish I could be your secretary or something.  
  
Okay, thumbs up thumbs down!  


Haru sits down in anticipation, popping open the top button of her shirt and taking a deep breath. Given the previous picture, she’s trying to steel herself for Ann looking like a bombshell. And she’s right.

The off-the-shoulder black silk dress is indecently short, ending only a few centimeters above her stockings and exposing a truly marvelous amount of cleavage in doing so. Clingy and glossy, it looks as if the night sky without stars could still shine.

Ann  
  
Wow. (thumbs up emoji) (thumbs up emoji) (thumbs up emoji)  
  
A ringing endorsement! It goes in the keep pile. But I’ve still got so many to try on still  
  
And I bet you want to see more, right?  
  
Sooooooo if you send me a picture of you without that jacket, I’ll show you another dress. And we’ll keep going with more clothes and when you tap out I’ll let you pick which one I wear tonight.  
  
What’s in it for me, besides getting to see you look incredible? It’s not like I’ll be able to see them in person…  
  
Says you, maybe! Come out and meet me tonight, and you’ll get to see your favorite. But which one will REALLY be your favorite? There’s a really good semisheer black one that I think will look great with this bra…  
  


Haru groans, a hand over her mouth. _Did she start doing this just so she could ask me out?_

Ann  
  
Deal. Give me a few minutes…  
  


When her assistant comes looking for her an hour before the meeting, she finds a piece of paper taped to the locked door that reads **DO NOT DISTURB.**

* * *

 

The line for the club extends across half the alleyway, the distant thump and roll of bass from inside that echos in the tight passage the only indication of its purpose. Haru leans against the wall, attention focused entirely at her phone. Ann said to meet her here, but she hasn’t answered any of Haru’s messages since she arrived. Lacking a better way inside, Haru entered the unmoving line which has only grown longer behind her, curving out of the alley into the main street and out of sight.

Ann  
  
Ann? I’m here…  
  
I’m getting in line, but I don’t think it’s moving. Are you inside?  
  


She sighs, tucking her phone back in her bag and looking around here. The line is packed, and everyone around her is dressed in a thousand styles and colors, all of them vibrant and far more stylish than her deep grey suit jacket and skirt. Compared to everyone around her, Haru couldn’t help but think she stuck out like a sore thumb. Every time a voice spoke up behind her, she imagined them saying her name, recognizing her, asking her about all the rumors around her family, giving her condolences for her father.

She shakes off the pointless thought when she sees two girls further up in the line pose for a selfie together, chattering and laughing as they switch filters rapidly, eventually settling on the Phantom Thieves promotional filter.

“Haru?” Haru startles, looking around. Standing just outside the line, frozen on the spot on his way to the front of the line, is Sugimura, hand in hand with a girl who looks like she should still be in a sailor uniform. She clenches her teeth, clenching her right hand into a fist.

“Sugimura.” Her response wakes him from his shock at seeing her, and a familiar slimy grin spreads across his face.

“My, what a surprise. You do know you’re in line for a club, yes, not a business meeting?” His date smirks, and Haru has to bite her cheek to stop herself from doubling him over with a body blow she’s practiced specifically for him.

_Maybe next time._

“Some of us have businesses to run, Sugimura. We don’t all have the luxury of letting our parents take care of everything for us.” His mask cracks, the grin faltering for a moment before sliding higher on his face, revealing whitened teeth.

“Ah, yes, how is cleaning up Kunikazu’s mess going? It must not be going well, if you’re thinking of selling the family home, yes?” Sugimura turns to his companion, chuckling urbanely. “I offered to help her company not too long ago, you know. She turned me down.”

_Oh, the hell with it._

Haru steps forward in her low heels, grunting wordlessly as she drives her fist deep into Sugimura’s gut, doubling him over. His companion drops his hand, backing up and screeching at the top of her lungs when Haru follows up with a toe kick to the shoulder, knocking him onto his back and planting her heel onto his throat, just hard enough to press into his windpipe.

“Don’t ever pretend you were anything but a parasite looking for an easy meal, Sugimura. And don’t _ever_ say my father’s —”

“Haru!” A familiar voice behind her draws her attention, and she steps off Sugimura’s throat, turning. Ann practically tackles her, wrapping her up in her arms and then pulling her away from the spectacle and pushing her towards the front of the line. As she does, she whispers in her ear. “What the hell was that? Who is that, what did he do?”

“My ex-fiancée. Scum.” Haru can still barely think, going from pure rage to nothing at all in only moments has left her confused, following Ann’s lead as she steers her forward.

“Oh, gross.” She waves to the bouncer, who opens the velvet rope for them both. “Thanks, Terry. Hey, can I ask a favor?” She points over their shoulder, at Sugimura picking himself up from the ground and arguing angrily with his date. “Can you make sure that guy doesn’t get in? He’s got—”

“Say no more, hon, I got you.” The large American nods, tapping the side of his forehead, and Haru can practically hear Ann smile behind her as they head inside. Once they’re inside, Ann spins her around and releases her shoulders, taking Haru’s hand instead between both of her own.

“Are you okay? Did he do anything?” Haru can’t help but smile at the concern in Ann’s voice, shaking her head.

“No, I’m fine. He just said something he should have known better than to say.”

“Good.” Ann squeezes her hand, smiling. “C’mon, I got us a booth reserved in the back.” Leading her further in, Haru gets to take in Ann’s outfit, the one she selected after a few hours of teasing and risqué photos flying back and forth. The deep black with red patterning that follows the curve of Ann’s body, accentuating her bust and the lines of her hips, looks incredible on her. Her hair is down in public for the first time Haru can remember, tumbling past her shoulders to the top edge of her dress.

“Take your jacket?” Ann’s voice breaks her out of her hyperfocus on Ann’s lower half and back to reality.

“Oh, sure.” Haru strips out of the suddenly-stifling jacket and passes it to Ann, leaving herself in shirtsleeves.

“Ooh, you look even better in person than you did in those selfies…” Ann smirks, throwing it back into the booth and scooting in on one side, patting the seat next to her. “C’mon, take a load off.”

Haru smiles back at her, scooting in and sitting just close enough to Ann to be aware of how warm she always is; Makoto definitely wasn’t joking. There’s already glasses sitting on the table, two cocktail glasses filled with neon liquid. “Oh, they’ve already served us? But we didn’t order anything.” She picks one up, sipping it and immediately choking when she realizes it’s full of vodka, swallowing hard, the flavor of artificial strawberry doing little to mask the burn. “Ann, this is full of alcohol!”

“Oh, good, he didn’t mess up. That would be thanks to…” Ann leans around Haru, pressing the thin fabric of her dress—and her bust—against her arm, pointing at the bar. There, a man in a business suit is watching the booth giving a short wave when they catch his eye. Ann waves in return, and he turns away. “He’s a photographers from the magazine. I slip him some cash, he gets us drinks. No ID necessary. Nice, right?” The heat rising to her face definitely isn’t the alcohol, not yet.

“V-very nice.” The quaver in her voice isn’t, either. “Ann. Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Well, Makoto didn’t text me back last night, then said they were busy this morning and couldn’t give me a ride to school. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where she’d go, since she went straight from class to wherever she went last night. And this isn’t the first time.” She picks her drink up, sipping it primly and smiling over the rim. “If you’re gonna try to steal my girlfriend, I might as well try to steal _you_ right back, huh?”

Haru nods, laughing. “So, all of this was a setup for me, then?”

“Yep! After Makoto said they helped you pick out a suit for today, I knew I had to do the same thing. You know, but sexier.”

“Well, it definitely worked.” Haru works up the courage to take her own glass, sipping carefully and doing her best not to squeeze her eyes shut at the harsh taste of vodka and strawberries. “So, if I know your game now, what’s your plan?”

“To give you the best night out you’ve ever had, duh!”

 

Alcohol flows, and restraint loosens. Neither of them have done this before, despite Ann’s newfound confidence at acting to bait the trap or seeming familiarity with everyone who works at this club, or her flagrantly illegal scheme for alcohol that could get them arrested. Neither of them worry about it—not out of any misplaced confidence in their ability to escape the police. They’re having too much fun together to have time to allow anxiety’s creeping tendrils to enter their conversation. They chat about inconsequential things, Haru asking how Shujin is getting by under its new leadership, about Akira and Ryuji and of course about Makoto, too. Ann quizzes her about what college is like, the things she hates there, what Haru loves about having the freedom to walk around the city all day if she wanted to.

All the while, drink flows, and they loosen up around each other. Haru unbuttons the collar of her shirt when the club seems to grow hotter by the minute, rolling up her sleeves and pulling Ann onto her lap with a giggle of glee they both share at the contact. Ann is hot enough to burn if you treat her without care, but warm enough to soothe all of her anger immediately with only a touch and a word. Haru’s already forgotten that only an hour ago, she decked her ex-fiancee in front of a crowd of people.

“What do you wanna’ do now, miss business-lady? Can’t just drink all night.” Ann puts on her best sultry smoulder when she says this, leaning closer to Haru and puffing out her chest so that it rests on top of Haru’s own, tantalizingly close. Haru stares openly, awestruck, but breaks away to look back at Ann’s face when she speaks.

“I—I don’t know, busty club girl! What do you think I should do? I have _all_ this _money_ and absolutely _nothing_ to do with it!”

“Mmm, money, huh? We could…go to…the _champagne room_.”

“Ooh…what’s in there?” Ann leans close to Haru’s ear, being rather loud despite the intimacy so she is audible over the noise of the rest of the club.

“Privacy. And…champagne. _Lots_ of champagne.” Haru gasps.

“That sounds wonderful! Let’s go!” Haru starts to stand, but Ann’s weight on her legs holds her in place.

“Wwwwwait. The…We can’t actually go to the champagne room. They’d _totally_ bust us.”

“Ohhh, right. Okay. Is there a champagne room we can go to somewhere else?”

“They only have champagne rooms in dance places and host clubs, and you’re supposed to take the host there, not the two of us and no host.”

“Oh.” Haru deflates, sighing. “But it sounded like so much fun…”

“Yeah…Too bad.”

“Wait. I have…money. A _lot_ of money. Can we make our own champagne room?”

“Wouldn’t you have to like, hire a construction crew?”

“No, no no no, like, we rent a room and buy champagne?” Ann hums to herself, putting her finger on her lips. Haru stares intently at her as she pushes out her lower lip in thought.

“That sounds like a lot of effort for this early in the night. Why don’t we just go dance? We can figure out if we _really_ want some privacy after some fun on the dancefloor. _Full contact fun_.”

“Ann! Are you still trying to seduce me?” Haru giggles when she says seduce, putting a hand over her chest  defensively.

“Of course I am!” She laughs, taking that hand and squeezing it. Haru narrowly deflects when she leans in for a kiss, turning to plant Ann’s lips on her cheek.

“Not yet you aren’t!” She squirms, crawling out from under Ann’s lap and out of the booth entirely. When she trips and falls, she stands up triumphantly with a whoop.

“Hey, you get back here!”

“If you want to seduce me, Ann, I hope that Carmen taught you some of her moves!” Haru cackles with delight, twirling out onto the dancefloor and nearly tripping over her own feet.

“Hey, hang on, I’m wearing heels too!” Ann scrambles after her, catching up quickly when Haru gets impeded by the tightness of her pencil skirt halfway there. Grunting in anger, she reaches down and tears at the side seam, ripping it open up to the top of her thigh and sighing with relief. Satisfied, she disappears into the dancefloor with Ann’s hand in hers.

 

Their chase continues through the night, interrupted by bouts of touch and movement that dizzy their addled senses. Their dancing is unskilled at best, but it doesn’t have to be to make them feel good—The presence of their dance partner is enough. Ann’s touch lights Haru’s night up with sensation; Ann leaves her arms burning, her back smouldering, sheer fire curling up her thigh when Ann dances close during a slower song, trailing her fingers up and up and up her exposed thigh until she runs out of leg. Haru is not without room for reprisal, gripping Ann’s exposed assets possessively whenever she can find room and intimacy. They stoke each other’s flames higher, then Haru flees, disappearing into the crowd and finding or stealing a new dance partner. And the cycle repeats, with both of them growing hungrier for each other with each passing moment.

Eventually, targets who don’t know the score become more fleeting, and the gaps between their dances grow shorter and shorter, and eventually Haru grabs Ann by the hand, pulling her from the dancefloor and shoving her into their booth, onto her back. Pouncing on top of her, they kiss furiously with their table as cover, scratching each other hard with the intensity of their grip upon one another, Haru holding Ann down and Ann blocking Haru from yet another escape with arms and legs wrapped around her back.

When air and discomfort begin to win out over the passion of the moment, they sit upright, hair and clothes askew. Haru laughs, picking at Ann’s dress and hair until it return to a pale shadow of its former glory. Ann giggles in return, brushing hair out of Haru’s face.

“So, that was wild. What now?” Ann’s soft smile as she talks melts Haru’s heart still further than the rest of the night already had.

“I don’t know! This night has been incredible, but it still feels like something is missing.”

“The champagne room.” Haru nods.

“The champagne room.” Ann sighs.

“Can we just get non-alcoholic champagne and go to a hotel somewhere? I don’t wanna pay that guy anymore.”

“Of course!” Haru hops to her feet, hauling Ann up with a single pull, catching her in her arms and wrapping her up in a tight embrace. “You know, you’re the perfect height for-” Haru looks up, leaning far enough back that Ann can see her past her own chest.

“I know! It’s great!” Ann giggles, clearly on the edge of losing it. “But we’re in public, so c’mon, the shapewear I had to wear to fit in this dress is killing me.”

“Okay, okay.” Once they’re out of the club, they walk hand in hand down the street, neither of them have a care in the world.

“So, what do you want to do once we get a room, miss business-lady?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“C’mon, you gotta tell me, I’m your busty club girl!”

“But I probably shouldn’t say it in public…” Ann stops in her tracks, pulling Haru back towards her and brings her face closer to Haru’s, grinning mischievously. “W-well…Okay. I…Ann, I want to bend you over and make you forget your own name.”

“Oh. I thought you were gonna say something more romantic.”

“I—You said to say what you want to do, so I did! You can’t just be disappointed!”

“I never said I was disappointed! Just—Jeez!” Ann’s blush is deep and easily visible despite the dim lighting in the street. People walk past them, grumbling at the two women stopped in the street blushing at each other.

“Is it…okay?”

“Of course it’s okay!” Ann takes the lead now, pulling Haru along with her. “If you thought your night at the club was great, I’m gonna give you the best champagne room service anybody’s ever gotten!”

“G-great! I can brag to my coworkers tomorrow!” Ann rounds on her, blushing even more deeply.

“Haru! You can’t!”

“I thought we were still doing the business-lady and busty club girl thing!”

The rest of the night, until they close the door into the motel, is more like this, equally flirtatious and confusion-ridden for both parties, until they can prove their intentions in private more clearly than words ever could.

 


End file.
